Family Values for the Emotionally Challenged
by BonitaBreezy
Summary: Clint has self-hatred and attachment issues, Phil is insecure, Kate just wants to be a Young Avenger, and Natasha is a thousand percent done with Clint's bullshit.


Though it felt kind of dick-ish to say it, the Avengers were pretty much the elite when it came to superheroes. That meant they weren't called out for every little issue that New York faced (and honestly it seemed like something weird went down every other day). There were tons of resident superheroes in New York, and they all had areas and specialties they tended to stick to, unless the problem was big enough to require a collaboration. So whenever there was a problem that required more attention than the cops could provide and less of a threat than required the Avengers, the team tended to meet up in the living room on the common floor and watch the happenings on the news. It was entertaining, it let them know what they might be up against and Cap could start strategizing in case things got out of hand and they were called in. But mostly it was just fun.

Today's spectacle was a bank robbery, which usually would just require cops, but the robbers had powers, and a team of what appeared to be super-powered teenagers had arrived on the scene. Steve was tutting and talking about the irresponsibility of allowing kids out to fight, but he hadn't made any move to suit up and head out himself, although that was probably because Tony had pointed out that Spider-Man was clearly a teenager and had gotten them through quite a few scrapes before, when they needed extra help at the last minute.

The media was calling the team the "Young Avengers", which Clint was sure was going to create a media shit storm. He could already see evidence of SHIELD agents waiting on standby to collect the group of kids as soon as the job was done. They couldn't really stop them from going out to fight, not if they were determined to and had super powers, but they couldn't be affiliated. It just wouldn't look good. No doubt they'd be brought in and the fear of Phil Coulson would be put in to them. After that, they really weren't SHIELD's concern.

"That boy is not of Asgard," Thor said, sounding somewhat miffed, as he watched a boy who couldn't be more than sixteen create a barrier to keep himself from getting shot with an explosive blast of energy. The reporters were calling him Asgardian, and apparently it wasn't their first time in the public eye. Seemingly out of nowhere, an arrow caught one of the robber's sleeves from where he was peeking out of the door and pinned his arm to the wall. The room went silent, and Clint found himself leaning forward in surprise, as if it would help him see who had shot it.

"It appears that Hawkeye has arrived on the scene!" the reporter exclaimed, looking like Christmas had come early. "Which can only mean the rest of the Avengers can't be far behind!"

"What the actual fuck," Tony said, breaking up the silence. "When were you gonna tell us you have a body double?"

"I have no idea what is going on," Clint responded. They watched as another arrow sailed through the air, missing the other robber who was trying to free his friend by a few inches.

"Well, Jesus, if you're gonna pretend to be me, at least do it right. Can't have an imposter making me look bad."

"This just in, it appears that whoever is firing arrows isn't Hawkeye!" the reporter said, sounding much more enthusiastic than a civilian in a battle zone should. "The shooter is a young woman, reportedly a new member of the Young Avengers, though her codename is unknown to us at the time!" The camera spun away from the front of the bank, zooming in to focus on a dark haired girl hanging precariously from a rooftop and firing an extremely familiar purple compound bow.

"Son of a bitch," Clint said, reaching for his phone and speed dialing Phil without looking away from the screen.

"I see her," Phil said as a greeting. "She is in _so much_ trouble. And so are you, god damn it. I told you buying her a compound bow for her birthday was a terrible idea. At least when she was just using your bows you could keep an eye on them."

"I told you, my draw is heavier than hers and I'm taller, she needed her own bow. And how was I supposed to know she'd become a teenage vigilante?" Clint retorted, watching intently as the leader of the ragtag little group, a black kid who called himself Patriot, grabbed the last guy from where he was trying to escape and put him on the ground with a knee in his back, holding him still while the cops moved in and cuffed him with their new power-dampening restraints.

"I don't want to hear it," Phil snapped. "Get over to HQ right now."

Clint sighed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly but knowing there was no way he was getting out of this. "Yes, sir."

"Wait, what the hell, do you know her?" Tony demanded, looking delighted at the very idea.

"She's sixteen, Stark, don't even think about it," Natasha said, shooting him a glare. Tony waved his hands in front of him as if that could ward away her anger, beginning to protest. Clint left them arguing. The sooner he got to HQ the better.

He arrived just minute after they'd gotten the young team into a conference room, so Clint knew he had a few minutes before Phil would get there. He was already getting yelled at, he didn't need to add any more reasons to the list. When he slipped in to the room, not even getting any hassle from the guys guarding the door, the kids all looked at him kind of warily, but three faces lit up when they saw who it was. The first two, the magic kid and the green guy, Clint could only assume were fans of the Avengers that recognized his face. The last was Kate, and she was grinning widely.

"Clint!" she exclaimed, sitting up straight. "Did you see?"

"Hell yeah, I saw!" Clint responded, suddenly excited to talk archery with his protégé. "That was some pretty fine shooting there, Katie! I definitely have some pointers and a few rough spots you need to work on, but all in all not too shabby. Keep going this way, you could be the next Hawkeye!"

"Wait, you two _know_ each other?" a blonde girl who was curled up in her chair at the end of the table asked, looking nervous.

"Of course we do, I told you I learned archery from the best," Kate said. "Clint's my…"

"Katherine Elizabeth Bishop what the _hell_ were you thinking?" Phil thundered as he entered the room. Clint stopped grinning immediately, sitting down in the nearest chair and avoiding Phil's gaze. He felt like a scolded child, and Phil wasn't even talking to him yet.

"Oh come on, it was awesome!" Kate tried. "I was just trying…"

"Oh, I know what you were trying. You think because you know how to shoot some arrows that you're capable of going out in the field…"

"Hey!" Clint protested, feeling stung.

"Yeah, Clint goes out and does it all the time!" Kate protested.

"This is not the same thing and you know it," Phil barked, eyes blazing with anger. Clint wasn't sure he'd ever seen Phil so mad before. "Clint has had years of training, professional training, in a lot more than archery. He's an expert marksman, a SHIELD agent and an Avenger and you're a sixteen year old girl with a basic compound bow and delusions of grandeur!"

"I was trying to help!" Kate insisted, eyes getting misty in her frustration. "I want to help! You always said that I should do my best to help people in need…"

"This was not what I meant! If you wanted to be a SHIELD agent you could have applied for a position when you turned eighteen…"

"I don't want to be a SHIELD agent! I want to be an Avenger!" Kate shouted back. The rest of her team was watching the two argue warily, and Clint wondered if he should try to intervene before things got too out of line.  
"Phil, maybe we should…" he tried to interrupt.

"Clint, Kate is _my_ daughter and I will decide what should and should not be done. I didn't want you to teach her to shoot in the first place and now look at what she's doing! She's going to get herself killed!"

Clint recoiled at the venom in Phil's voice, feeling like he'd been slapped. He'd known that Kate wasn't actually his daughter, of course he had. She was Phil's, through and through, competent and sarcastic and smart as a whip. But Clint had thought that, over the past ten years, he might have been considered more than just her step-dad. He thought that Phil had welcomed him in to their family, but it seemed he had been wrong.

"I was just going to say that maybe you should address the rest of these kids so that they can go home and have this discussion with Kate later," Clint told him. "But you're right, it's none of my business. I'll see you at home. Great shooting, Katie."

"Clint, wait!" Kate called after him, but he just shook his head at her left. He was really hurt by what Phil had said, but he couldn't let it bother him. Phil was right, after all. Kate was his daughter. She'd been in Phil's life since before Clint had even been recruited to SHIELD, let alone before they'd gotten married. And seriously, who would ever trust Clint to act like a parent? He was a carnie-raised high school dropout whose only skills consisted of the most efficient ways in which to kill people and apparently thought it was okay to not only teach young girls how to do it too, but to provide them with a weapon. He was a fucking idiot, and Phil had every right to be mad at him. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if Phil didn't let him see Katie anymore. Clearly he was a bad influence. It sucked, but he had to deal. Phil's daughter, Phil's choice. He just had to compartmentalize, was all. He had to sort out his feelings and then look at it all logically and everything would be fine.

And if, when he got back to the tower, he ignored all the questions and went straight to his own apartment and curled up in his and Phil's bed, that didn't mean he was sulking. It didn't. He gave himself until an hour before he knew Phil would be home before he jumped in the shower and slipped in to some seldom-worn pajamas (ratty sweatpants and Phil's Rangers shirt) and headed off to Natasha's floor.

She stared at him blankly for a full minute after she opened the door before he shifted uncomfortably and said, "Can I sleep here tonight? Phil's mad at me because of the thing with Kate and I think I should probably give him some space…"

"You're running away and hiding like a coward," Natasha told him and he stared at his toes and nodded.

"I'm not ready for him to tell me I can't see Katie anymore," he muttered, but he knew Natasha would hear him. She stared at him steadily for another minute, waiting for him to squirm, before she sighed and stepped out of the doorway.

"All right, come in. But I want it on record that I think you're being stupid and immature.

"Noted. Thanks," Clint said, following Nat into her apartment.

"Do you want to drink?" Natasha asked, stopping in the hallway and watching him with her arms crossed under her breasts. It was a closed stance, which told him she wasn't very happy with him, but the offer to drink with him told him that she loved him even when she thought he was being an idiot.

"No. I think I just want to sleep," Clint admitted. "I feel like shit."

"Okay. You know where everything is. If Phil comes knocking in the middle of the night and wakes me up I'm taking the missed hours of sleep out of your ass in the gym," she warned him, heading off towards the bathroom, which he could now see had the large Jacuzzi tub full of bubbles and a few lit candles littering the edge. Sometimes, Clint forgot that Natasha was actually a woman who liked to do woman-y things. He would never tell her that, though, for fear of being eviscerated.

He let himself in to her bedroom, painted in a fresh spring green (another surprise was that Natasha liked bright colors) and flopped down on to the bed without turning the lights on. He simply rolled under the blanket and shut his eyes, feeling more exhausted than he had in a long time. Despite that, he couldn't sleep at all. His t-shirt still smelled like Phil, and he never slept well when he was by himself. It was another hour before Natasha came in to the room. She dressed in an over-sized t-shirt and panties before sliding in to bed beside him.

"There's a guest room, you know," she told him as he immediately latched on to her, wrapping his arm over her waist and burying his face in the damp hair at the back of her neck.

"I can go, if you really want me to," he told her, already feeling sleep claiming him.

"Might as well stay," she sighed, acting put upon, which made Clint smile. He knew that she usually wouldn't allow for herself to be restrained so much, and it was a mark of their closeness and trust that she let him hold her in a way that would restrict her movement.

"Thank you, Tasha," he said quietly, and she stroked his hand gently for a moment.

"Tomorrow you're sleeping in your own bed like the adult you technically are," she told him sternly. He mumbled his assent and squeezed her middle gently before slipping off to sleep at last.

There was a text from Kate and a voicemail from Phil waiting for him when he woke up. Natasha had already vacated the room, and for a moment he considered pretending that he hadn't seen them, but he knew that sort of ruse would only hold up for so long. It would be better if he just checked the messages. Still, he could be a little bit childish and check Katie's first.

"_Dad told mom and now I'm grounded until she decides otherwise. I don't know when I'm gonna be able to do a lesson again, but apparently I've finally gotten clearance so I'm staying with you and dad next weekend. Maybe we can do something then?"_

Clint wondered how little contact Phil would want him to have with Kate. Maybe he would have to stay with Nat for the weekend. He didn't think she'd be too pleased about that. Natasha liked her space, and she got incredibly irritable if she didn't have enough alone time. If all else failed, he supposed that he could stay in his nest in the vents. It was comfortable enough. He really didn't want to be a bother when this whole stupid thing was his fault. He took a deep breath, staring at the little red icon on his phone before pressing the playback button and bringing it to his ear.

"I'm going to assume, since you're nowhere to be found, that you're being a child and hiding with Natasha." Phil's voice sounded tired and annoyed, and Clint found himself flinching at the sound of it. "I realize that I was short with you earlier, but I had assumed that you'd be mature enough to discuss it with me. Clearly that is not the case. When you feel like acting like an adult, come find me. I-" there was a pause, a sigh, and then the click that signaled the end of the call. Clint felt sick as he set his phone aside. Phil had cut himself off from his normal good bye of "I love you". Spending the night away had made things worse than he'd thought they would. Half of him wanted to run even farther, but the other half, the needy half that remembered being abandoned by everyone he'd ever loved, demanded that he go find Phil and beg for forgiveness and affection.

When it came to Phil, Clint didn't have too much pride to beg, because he knew he was damn lucky that Phil had even looked twice at him. And even though they'd been together for ten years, and even though Phil was the one who had proposed, Clint lived in near-constant fear that one day Phil would wake up and realize exactly how out of Clint's league he was and everything would be over. On one level he knew that was stupid and insecure and that if he knew, Phil would be mad at him for thinking that way. But the other, less sensible, level reminded him that he wasn't very smart and his skills had a shelf life and that he was annoying and clingy and that Phil would one day find someone who was better for him than Clint ever could be and then he would be alone again. Clint hated being alone, and if he had to cling to Phil's knees and make a complete idiot of himself, he would, because Phil was the best thing in his life.

"Get up and go talk to him," Natasha said from the doorway, her arms folded under her breasts and a no-nonsense look on her face. When he stared at her for about thirty seconds, she scowled and said, "I am not fucking playing around with you, Clint. Get out of my bed and go find your husband. If you want to have adult relationships, you need to act like an adult. Now go."

Clint heaved a heavy sigh, but rolled off her bed and to his feet all the same. Natasha flicked his ear as he passed her in the doorway, as a sign of affection or annoyance, he wasn't really sure. He didn't ask, either, just headed towards the elevator to take it back to his own apartment. It was a Sunday, and a little bit past nine in the morning. Sundays had become Phil's mandatory days off (barring the end of the world) since recovering from Loki, and he liked to sleep in, so Clint knew he would have woken up at about nine and would still be lounging around in bed

Surely enough, he was sitting up against the headboard of their bed, glasses perched on his nose, reading from his tablet when Clint entered the room. He wanted nothing more than to go curl up on the bed next to Phil and rest his head in his lap and be petted, but all was not well in their world right now, and he really doubted that he would be welcomed. Phil glanced at him as he stood there awkwardly before rolling his eyes and setting his tablet aside.

"Are you ready to talk to me now?" he asked.

"Yeah," Clint mumbled, fiddling with the drawstring of his sweatpants. "Natasha said…"

"You know something?" Phil interrupted him, and Clint didn't dare protest. Phil was never blatantly rude, so obviously he was really mad. "I don't remember marrying Natasha. Did we marry her and I didn't notice?"

"Um…what?" Clint tried, but Phil cut him off again.

"I'm pretty positive that Natasha wasn't included in our nuptials, so I can't figure out why you're having discussions about our marriage with her instead of me. Let's start there."

"Well…Tasha's my best friend," Clint offered hesitantly. "I mean, you're my best friend too. But you were really mad yesterday and I thought that I shouldn't be around when you got home and Natasha let me stay. I didn't really talk to her that much, but you know Nat knows everything and she was telling me that I should come talk to you and that I was being a coward by running away, so don't get mad at her…"

"I'm not mad at Natasha. I'm not even really mad at you," Phil said, and then paused. "Well, I'm kind of mad at you, but not because of what happened with Kate. I'm mad at myself for that." That made Clint pause, and seeing the expression on Phil's face, a mix of frustration and fatigue, made him settle down on the edge of the bed in front of Phil, one leg tucked under him and one with his foot planted firmly on the ground, in case Phil indicated that he wanted Clint to get away from him.

"Why are you mad at yourself?" Clint asked. Phil heaved a sigh and took his glasses off, setting them aside on top of his tablet.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you the way I did," he said.

"No, I get it. Katie…Kate is important and she's your daughter and I fucked up…"

"But she's your daughter too," Phil insisted. "Maybe not biologically, but you've been in her life since she was six years old. You've helped raise her just as much as I have. You've helped shape who she is…"

"And a great job I did there," Clint snorted bitterly. "I taught her how to kill people and gave her a means. I set an awesome example for her and now she wants to put herself in danger as a career, and you know what I told her in that conference room even though I knew how mad you were? I told her she was shooting great and that I could give her pointers and that she could be the next Hawkeye! My first instinct was to encourage her!"

"Okay, yeah, that probably wasn't the best idea," Phil said. "But no one is the perfect parent, Clint. I'm definitely not. But I have no doubt in my mind that you would kill yourself before you intentionally did anything to harm Kate or put her in danger. If I didn't trust you with Kate I never would have let you meet her, I wouldn't have married you, for Christ's sake. You love her and I know she loves you, and telling you that you don't have a say in her life was so wrong of me. I'm really sorry." The look Phil was giving him was filled with so many emotions Clint thought it might send all of SHIELD's junior agents in to shock, if they were to see it. He didn't look too overly angry, although that was definitely one of the emotions showing on his face. It made Clint hesitant to ask, but he knew that he couldn't avoid it.

"So why are you mad at me?" The flash of annoyance and anger got stronger, but Phil didn't look like he was going to go off on him, so Clint tried not to flinch away from it.

"You just left, Clint. You left and you went off and spent the night with Natasha and you didn't talk to me at all. You just ran away, and we are supposed to be married. We're supposed to talk these things out together, and instead you did what you always do when things get difficult. You ran away and hid and let Natasha in and left me back here by myself, worried out of my mind about my daughter's safety. I needed you last night, Clint, and you spent the whole time wrapped around Natasha!"

"Are…are you jealous of Nat?" Clint asked hesitantly, reaching out to touch Phil's hand where it rested on his knee.

"Of course I'm jealous!" Phil snapped, and Clint snatched his hand back feeling stung. "You can talk to Natasha where you refuse to talk to me, you sleep with her, and you have similar pasts, you understand each other on a level I could never hope to. She's gorgeous and young and…" Phil paused taking in a shaking breath and bringing up a hand to massage his temples. Clint wondered, for the very first time, if Phil was just as insecure and needy as he was.

"I…Natasha's been my best friend for a long time. You're right; she does understand me on a level you can't. But god, Phil, you're everything. Every single thing, every single second, every breath and stupid joke and arrow fired and…god, just everything. I love you so much, I honestly can't even think about being without you. And yeah, Natasha's beautiful, but I look at you and I've never seen anyone more gorgeous…and…god, I don't know. I don't really know how to explain how I feel about you; I don't know how to say it except that I trust you with me. I trust you with my heart and my soul and my body and everything.

"I trust that Natasha will do what is best for her. I love Natasha and I trust her to have my back, but in the end Natasha looks out for Natasha. And that's not a bad thing…but that's the difference. I trust you to do what's best for me. I have no doubts that you'll do what's best for me without a second thought. Because you love me. I don't know much, but I know that. And I know that I thought I was in love with Natasha for a long time and that she left me and I survived. But I'm so in love with you I live in fear that one day you'll leave me and I'll break apart and I won't be able to pick myself up again because I won't care to. I can't explain it any other way."

"That…that's enough," Phil said. "I won't leave you. I can't leave you. But I need you, Clint. Please. I really do. I need you to talk to me and not to run away and I know you're close with Natasha and I would never ask you to not be, but god I need you with me. You say you trust me, but then you won't even talk about important things with me. Why?"

"I didn't want you to tell me I couldn't see Katie anymore. I thought I could put it off, and that maybe you wouldn't say I couldn't see her anymore if I gave you time to calm down. You know I kind of hate myself, right? And that I have the lowest self esteem ever? It just…it gets in the way and my brain gets all scrambled and I do stupid shit. And I'm really sorry. I can't promise that I'm not gonna run away every time. I can't promise that I'll be able to shut my brain up, but I'll try. I promise I'll try because I love you and I don't want you to ever think you aren't my whole world. Is that okay?"

"That's okay," Phil nodded, reaching out to take Clint's hand in his. Clint pushed it away, choosing instead to push himself forward into Phil's arms. Phil adapted admirably, leaning back against the headboard and hugging Clint close to his chest. Clint sighed contentedly and closed his eyes, secure for now that everything would be okay.

"Okay, guys, seriously. Katie's coming to stay for the weekend and she's only sixteen, so try to keep the crazy down. She's totally awesome, but I really think the only person here qualified to be a decent role model for teenagers is Steve, so just try to not be assholes," Clint said, shooting a hard look at Tony, who was doing his best to look innocent. He wasn't doing that well.

"I still can't believe you're a stepfather. Or that Agent is an actual father. I thought he was gay," Tony said, proving that he couldn't be trusted not to be an ass.

"He is gay, that doesn't mean he never experimented with a woman and also that is so not the point. The point is: if you do something inappropriate around my kid I will castrate you. Okay?" There was a general murmur of assent from the team, and then the elevator doors slid open to reveal Kate and Phil, the latter of whom had a purple duffel bag that was far too large for just a weekend trip slung over his shoulder.

"You need to wait for JARVIS to do a biometric scan so you won't set off intruder alerts," Phil said, grabbing her shoulder before she could dash out of the elevator.

"The scan is complete, Agent Coulson," JARVIS informed him, and Katie was out of the elevator and in Clint's arms in what seemed like seconds. Clint laughed and lifted her off her feet when he hugged her, setting her back down with a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey there Katie!" he greeted. "How's the grounding been?"

"Awful," Kate responded. "Hopefully mom will get a grip soon enough."

"She's never going to 'get a grip' about your safety," Phil told her, to which she just rolled her eyes.

"Whatever, dad," she sighed, her voice holding a disinterested quality that only a teenager could muster. She then turned to wave at the team, who were all watching and waiting somewhat awkwardly, like they weren't really sure what to say when confronted with an actual teenage girl. "Hi, I'm Kate!" she offered with a wave. She got a return of hellos and introductions, and then Tony said,

"Your room was designed to Clint and Age…your dad's ideas of what you would want…but if you want to change anything just let JARVIS know and he can put in the order. Oh, and JARVIS is the AI who runs the tower. You heard him earlier."

"Disembodied British voice?" Kate asked.

"Indeed, Miss Coulson. If there is anything you might require just ask me," JARVIS said.

"I have my mom's last name, Bishop," Kate told him.

"Apologies, Miss Bishop," JARVIS responded. Kate looked like she wasn't quite sure how to continue having a conversation with a computer that lived in the ceiling, and Clint really couldn't blame her. It had taken him a long time to get used to JARVIS.

"All right, well come on. We'll show you our floor and your room," Clint told her. "And then I can show you the range Tony designed for me. It's awesome."

"But she won't be shooting on the range because she's not allowed to be using her bow until her mother decides to lift her punishment," Phil told them both sternly as they went.

Kate grumbled under her breath as they went, but Clint couldn't find it in himself to be annoyed at either of them. He was just glad that he had his family. It was reassuring to know that they all screwed up and did and said stupid things, but everything turned out okay. No matter what happened, no matter how big of a mistake was made, they all loved each other, and they would be there for each other. It was the kind of family that Clint had hoped for his whole life, and now he had it. And it was okay that they weren't exactly what he'd imagined and perfect like he'd always dreamed.

Because actually they kind of were.


End file.
